


A Different Kind of Fairy Tale

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Books, Bookstores, Deaf Character, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Pining Castiel, Single Parent Dean, book seller Cas, shipper Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best part about Castiel’s day is going to work among the books.</p><p>That is, until the mechanic walks through the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whelvenwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whelvenwings/gifts).



> Thank you to [Freck](literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) for the beta, and to [Onja](appleblossomdean.tumblr.com) for the beta and for holding my hand through this process. <3
> 
> Fanart by one of my kiddos.

Castiel has loved books for as long as he can remember. As a child he had a habit of holing himself up in a tree or hiding beneath his bed and reading for hours, stories about time travelling toll booths, and princes from distant planets, children living in boxcars, and life-sized bugs traveling in oversized pieces of fruit. All were uniquely different, yet similarly enthralling, and he devoured each and every one with a healthy appetite for the world of make-believe.

When he was nine years old, he'd peddled the few blocks it took to get to his favorite book store, the Book Attic, where it sat huge and quaint on a corner downtown, across the street from a cafe and around the corner from a car repair garage, and asked the owner at the time, Marv, for a job.

"You're too young, Castiel," Marv had told him, none too gently, and Castiel had slumped away from the front counter, trying not to feel too hurt. He was nine after all. Certainly that was old enough for a job.

He was stopped on the way out by Gabe, Marv's nephew and one of five employees. Gabe wasn't much older than Castiel at the time, fifteen, maybe, but he seemed so distinguished in his blue Book Attic apron and shiny gold name tag.

"Don't let it beat you up, kid," he'd told Castiel, handing him a piece of wrapped chocolate and guiding him away from the door and instead towards the children's section. "There's plenty of time to work when you're older. You should enjoy being a lazy ass while you can."

"I'm not lazy," Castiel had said, arms folded across his chest and frown forming on his face.

Gabriel had smirked. "Sure you are. You're a kid."

Though it's not his proudest moment, Castiel remembers sticking his tongue out at Gabriel as he'd walked away, chocolate melting delightfully in his mouth.

And despite his broken heart, Castiel had still stayed all afternoon, picking through titles in the fantasy section and on into the sci-fi shelves.  He'd even stayed after hours and helped Gabriel reshelve books and dust some of the displays.

That night Gabriel had let him take home a book if he promised to bring it back before Marv was in the next morning. Castiel had smiled the whole way home.

Ten years down the road, Gabriel bought the Book Attic right out from underneath his uncle and sent the bitter old man packing. The first thing he did as a new business owner was hire Castiel, officially.

And now, thirteen years later, the best part about Castiel's day is going to work among the books.

That is, until the mechanic walks through the door.

It's late on a Tuesday afternoon, just when business usually slows down, and Castiel is busy setting up a new release display. He didn't particularly care for the book, but the author is popular and brings in a lot of revenue, so Gabe keeps the store well stocked with their work.

The overhead bell chimes, a quiet sound, barely heard over the music piping in through the store's speakers, and Castiel offers a quick, "Welcome," over his shoulder, too immersed in keeping track of how many books he's shelved to do much else.

"Hey, can you tell me where the kids’ stuff is?" The voice comes from behind him, gruff, and when Castiel turns to answer, he's met with wide green eyes, freckles strewn across cheeks and nose, and broad shoulders framing an equally broad chest.

The man looks like a hero straight out of a story book.

"Yes," Castiel answers lamely, every thought in his head retreating at the sight of the beautiful person standing before him. "I-" he continues before finishing just as he'd begun. "Yes."

The man - a mechanic it appears, if the motor oil stained Singer Automotive shirt he wears is anything to go by - smiles, eyes sparking and lips stretching to reveal white teeth. It's a very nice look on him. "Great," he says, amused.

"Yes," Castiel says again.

After a beat of silence the man is looking down at his side, and that's when Castiel realizes there's a small child - maybe three or four years old - tugging at the man's shirt. Castiel watches as the boy forms his hands into gestures, then blinks hopeful green eyes, just like the mechanic's, up at the man through the dark halo of curls falling across his forehead.

The man nods. "Yeah, buddy. We're gettin' there," he says. His fingers move with his words, much like the child's had, and Castiel watches with rapt attention. Those fingers may be grease caked and calloused, but they're the most beautiful fingers Castiel's ever seen - though thinking so makes him feel a little like he’s landed himself smack dab in the middle of a modern-day Jane Austen novel.

Without warning, the man's eyes find Castiel's again, flashing gold as they catch the sun. Castiel’s heart stutters in his chest.

"Soooooo," the man says, eyebrow cocked. "About the stuff for the kid?"

"Oh," Castiel starts. "Yes. Right. Um- This way." And he takes off towards the children's section, mentally kicking himself as he goes.

When they cross beneath the big paper-made willow tree that separates the children's section from the rest of the book store, he hears the boy gasp, and his heart skips a beat in understanding. This had been his favorite thing as a child, walking beneath the low hanging branches, feeling the brush of their touch against his shoulders as they welcomed him into a world tailored just to him.

He still remembers the day the tree went up. It had been Gabriel's idea and Marv had protested, but Castiel had thought it brilliant. It's been a permanent and well-loved fixture ever since.

Castiel  turns then, glances behind him with a smile. "This is my favorite part, too," he says to the boy, trusting the mechanic to relay the words. He does, his face mirroring the enthusiasm on the boy's, and Castiel's heart skips again.

“Here we are,” he says when they’re enveloped in brightly colored walls and miniature furniture. The space has been updated since he was a child, more life and character thrown into it in the last several years, and Castiel takes pride in most of the work and ideas being his own. Gabriel had given him full creative license a few years back, and Castiel had taken the place from the haven it was for him as a boy and turned it into something just short of paradise.

For a moment, he watches the boy look around, drink in his surroundings with quiet excitement, his hand clenched in the man’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from floating into delightful oblivion.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Castiel wonders. He’s lingering, he knows he is, but the man is so charming, the child so lively, he wants to stay in their presence just a bit longer.

“I don’t think so,” the man answers, “but thanks, man. This is awesome.” His gaze meets Castiel’s, and Castiel is falling, hurtling through endless green that makes him warm all over. He nods once, quirking a soft smile.

“If you need anything else, my name is Castiel. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’m Dean Winchester,” the mechanic answers, a slight blush following the words. He ducks his head, smiles to himself. “Not that you asked or needed to know, but-”

Dean Winchester, Castiel thinks to himself. He finds the name fitting despite not actually knowing what he means by that, and he nods, offers Dean half a smile. “Pleasure, Dean,” he says.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “same.” He flashes Castiel a quick grin; then, his attention is drawn to the boy as he rushes towards one of the nearest shelves and starts pulling random titles out of neatly lined rows and into his arms. Dean takes off after him, guiding the boy towards a heap of beanbags and plopping down onto one, pulling the boy into his lap. “Jude, tell Castiel thank you,” he says as he signs the words.

The boy, Jude, looks up at Castiel with blissful green eyes. Thank you, he signs, hand moving eagerly.

Castiel looks to Dean, who immediately understands and shows Castiel the sign for You’re welcome. Castiel repeats the sign to Jude, and Jude smiles wide before handing one of the books to Dean and settling in.

Dean offers Castiel a wink in parting, and then, he’s delving into the pages with Jude, muttering the words quietly as his fingers move in tandem so the boy will understand.

Wanting to give them privacy, Castiel tears himself away, ducking back through the willow tree-lined archway and settling himself behind the register.  

He tries to focus on inventory charts and emails from Gabriel about scheduling a book signing, but the only thing that really holds his attention is the memory of expressive green eyes and well-worked fingers forming silent words.

They never buy anything, Dean and Jude, but they start frequenting the store enough that Castiel begins to learn things about them. He learns Jude is just shy of four years old, that Dean is a single father, and that he works around the corner for his uncle Bobby. He learns the two of them are transitioning from a form of watered down sign language they’ve been using since Jude was a baby into standard ASL, and that reading the books helps them both.

And then, there are the things that are not mentioned but garnered from the simple act of, small details about the Winchesters that Castiel tucks away for bad days. The way Dean’s eyes crinkle up when he laughs, drawing out deep lines that make Castiel feel like smiling too, or how Jude sometimes rests his ear against his father’s chest to feel the vibrations of his voice as he speaks.

Or the way Dean always greets Castiel happily despite looking tired and life sodden.

It’s only been a few weeks, a handful of times Castiel has had the privilege of conversing with the two of them, but every single time has been special.

“Hey, Cas you got anything on dragons?” Dean wonders on a Friday evening. It’s nearing closing time, and everyone has cleared out already, everyone, that is, except Jude and Dean.

They linger sometimes now, reading until the only thing left for Castiel to do is lock the door. He’s sure if Gabriel knew, it’d be frowned upon, but then, Gabriel let Castiel do the same some years ago, so the consequences can’t be too grave.

“Uh, yes. I think they’re on the third shelf to the left over there.” Castiel points in the general direction of where the books are located and continues to push in small chairs and gather books off the tables.

Jude is following close behind him, making sure the chairs are straight - as he often does.

“This one?” Dean asks, reaching above his head. Just as Castiel glances over he catches sight of a sliver of tanned hip bubbling over the waistband of Dean’s jeans, and he smiles to himself, cheeks flushing gently.

When Castiel doesn’t answer, Dean turns his head, expression questioning. “Uh, yes,” Castiel says, eyes snapping to Dean’s, albeit sheepishly. Dean doesn’t seem to notice - pulling a few books out for examination - and for that Castiel is grateful. When Jude realizes what it is his father’s looking at, he rushes over to Dean, grabbing at his arm and pulling until the book is low enough for him to see.

“This will be good for tomorrow, huh, little guy?” Dean asks and signs. Jude’s head bobs enthusiastically in agreement, and Castiel’s lips twitch at the corners. He crosses the room to join them.

“Do you like dragons, Jude?” Castiel asks.

“Like is an understatement,” mutters Dean. “I think I can quote How to Train Your Dragon 1 and 2 better than I can sing the words to my favorite Zep album.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Oh it is. This kid’s world is dragons right now.” As he says it, Dean moves his hands to indicate fire coming out of his mouth. At the sign Jude’s eyes light up, his cheeks rounding into a smile. “See?” Dean says, huffing a laugh.

Castiel nods. “I do.”

Jude makes a grabbing motion with his hands, and Dean sweeps him into his arms, moving the boy’s legs to wrap around either side of his hip. As he goes to place the books back on the shelf, Castiel takes them from Dean.

“I’ll get them,” he says.

Dean offers him a smile. “Thanks, Cas.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” Castiel wonders.

“Yup, right after my shift.”

Castiel smiles back. “Until tomorrow then.”

Dean nods. “Yeah.”

When the lock is slid into place after Dean and Jude have left for the night, Castiel spends a few extra minutes pulling down all the dragon books and moving them to a shelf where Jude can reach them all on his own.

He’s there the next day when Dean takes Jude straight for the shelf he’d last been the night before. As Dean reaches above him, Castiel clears his throat, feeling strangely nervous.

“I moved the dragon books to a lower shelf,” he says, motioning towards where they now rest. “I thought Jude might like to go through them himself.”

Dean follows Castiel’s hand, something soft and appreciative growing in his eyes, like it’s the first good thing someone’s done for him in a long time. At that thought, Castiel’s heart twists. Dean is a good man, Jude a delightful boy. Castiel doesn’t know a lot about either of them, but he hopes good things are commonplace in their lives. They deserve it.

“That was really nice of you, man, thanks.”

Castiel shrugs. “It was no trouble.” He watches Jude dig through the pile with vigor, then take up his favorite spot in one of the beanbags and blink at Dean expectantly.

Dean lets out a chuckle. “Guess he found something he likes,” he says.

Something warm settles upon Castiel’s shoulders as he watches father and child flip through the books with matching smiles on their faces.

“You know customer’s are supposed to buy things, right?” Gabriel’s sharp features are cut into a smirk, like he knows something - which he probably does, Gabriel always knows something - and Castiel frowns.

“I’m well aware of what a customer is supposed to do,” he counters.

“That why you’re letting Mr. Handsome and his kid hang out here all the time without ever selling them anything?” Gabriel asks the question with his gaze turned towards a stack of new arrivals, tone carefully innocent even though Castiel knows he is anything but.

At the mention of Dean, Castiel’s stomach is transformed into an aviary, birds flapping about in random succession.

“His name is Dean,” Castiel grumbles.

“And does Dean-o know libraries exist?”

Castiel levels Gabe with a scowl. “What’s wrong with him frequenting our store instead? I did. And if I do recall properly you gave me books behind Marv’s back. I never paid for anything, and I doubt you did either.”

Gabriel clutches his chest dramatically, howling. “I’m hurt,” he says, “I’m truly hurt. Not only do you think me a thief, but you’re slower than I thought. Why d’you think I hired you when I bought the place, Cassie? You’re working off all those books I gave you.”

“You’re paying me,” Castiel deadpans.

The corners of Gabriel’s lips twitch. “Okay so maybe you’re not so slow.”

“And maybe you don’t really care that Dean Winchester isn’t buying anything.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Gabriel brandishes with a shrug. “But you know what I do care about? You going all Flower on me every time he walks into the store with that kiddo of his. You know I’m not opposed to employee/customer relationships right?” Gabriel’s eyebrows wiggle on his forehead, and Castiel tilts his head at him, frowning.

“Flower?”

“Y’know? The skunk from Bambi?”

Castiel blinks. Gabriel blinks back, waiting for something though Castiel knows not what, and finally Gabriel huffs, shakes his head.

“You’re twitterpated, Cas,” he explains.

Castiel’s frown deepens, and Gabriel’s hands fly into the air, frustration clearly etched in his features.

“Fuck me,” he mutters. “You’ve been making doe-eyes at him for weeks now. You like him, y’know? Twitterpated? You wanna jump his bones, feel the burn of the D, you wann-”

Castiel’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, and he glances around, assuring no one’s listening in on them. “Be quiet,” he growls. “You’re being vulgar.”

Gabriel’s hand shoots out and hangs in mid-air between them. “Hi, I’m Gabriel, have we met?”

Castiel looks down at Gabriel’s hand, ignoring it and gathering a stack of books from the front counter into his arms. “I’m going to reshelve,” he states, then turns on his heel and leaves Gabriel and his implications behind him.

Gabriel’s lewd chuckle follows him as he goes.

“Your boyfriend is here.” It’s Gabriel’s way of greeting when Castiel breezes in for the afternoon shift and Castiel frowns.

“I don’t have a-”

“Dean-o.” Gabriel interrupts. “And the kid. Seemed a little disappointed when they walked in and saw me instead of you.”

“Oh.”  Castiel stands there for a moment, biting at his bottom lip, his stomach twisting itself into figure eights.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, like there’s something very obvious afoot and Castiel is missing it. “You should go say hi,” he suggests. “You know, fraternize with the customers. Maybe they’ll buy something this time.”

And Castiel would never pressure Dean into buying something - he seems to bring Jude to the Book Attic for respite just as much as he does for joy and entertainment - but Castiel does have a few books he thought Jude might like and he remembers them now.

“Where’s that stack of books I pulled yesterday?” he asks, tugging his messenger bag over his head and placing it on the front counter. Gabriel turns, fingers wiggling as he searches. When he turns back, books in hand, Castiel takes them from him and pushes his messenger bag towards him. “Thank you,” he says.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

Castiel scowls at Gabriel and heads towards the willow tree.

“You’re here,” Dean says when Castiel brushes into the children’s section. Jude is perusing the shelves, finger trailing lightly over the spines of books, and Dean is seated on one of the miniature tables in the middle of the room. His eyes are bright, despite the tired lines in his face, and Castiel’s lips tug up into a soft smile.

“I am,” he says. He comes to stand next to Dean, one arm curled around the books in his arms, and in the close proximity, he can smell fall air on Dean’s skin, a crisp mixture of dying earth, and motor oil, and a warm sort of spice that’s akin to being wrapped in a big fluffy blanket.

“Jude was disappointed when he didn’t see you at your usual post.” Dean’s smile is knowing and so boy-like it’s almost like staring into Jude’s face instead of his father’s.

“Well perhaps these will make up for my brief absence.” Castiel hands the books to Dean, watches as Dean shuffles through the titles with a deepening grin on his face.

“You picked these out for him?”

“I came across them as I was cleaning up yesterday.” It’s an outright lie - Castiel stayed after his usual duties had been completed the day before and combed through the children’s section looking specifically for books for Jude; stories with vibrant pictures, rich textures, and palpable narratives that Castiel felt might appeal to Jude’s tastes and unique needs.

But that’s a detail Castiel decides to keep to himself.  

Dean clears his throat, and Castiel’s attention is drawn back from the boy, from yesterday, and to Dean. “That’s really cool of you, Cas,” Dean mutters, eyes turned towards the top book. It’s an older title, one Castiel considers a classic, and he chose it thinking Dean might enjoy it as well.

“Since he’s finished all the dragon books, I thought it might be nice to have something fresh to read.”

Jude comes over then, and when he sees Castiel, his face lights up and he waves a small hello. Castiel waves back, wishing he knew how to better communicate outside the few words he’s picked up from watching the two of them.

Hey, buddy. These are for you. Cas picked them out. Dean says the words as he signs them, and Jude’s smile deepens as he reaches for the books. He looks to Cas, eyes imploring, the For me? unspoken, but clear all the same.  

Castiel dips his head in a nod.  

Thank you, Jude signs.

“I hope you enjoy them.”

Jude signs something else, and Dean looks hesitant to translate, turning to Castiel with a wince of a smile. “He wants to know if you’ll, uh- if you’ll read him one.”

“Oh, I-”

“It’s alright if you’re busy or whatever. He won’t be upset, but since you found them he just thought it’d be cool. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even asked, it’s weird right?” Dean’s rambling is endearing, the way his cheeks burn pink and his hands become fidgety, but Castiel doesn’t want him to feel uncomfortable so he reaches out a hand, lets it fall lightly on Dean’s shoulder, stilling him.

“I’d be honored,” he says because while he’s pretty sure reading to the child is not technically work, Gabriel did tell him to fraternize with the customers...

He gives Dean’s shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at Jude, and though Jude can’t hear, the answer must be evident on Castiel’s face because Jude smiles brighter than the sun itself.

Happiness bubbles up in the space just behind Castiel’s rib cage.

With tangible excitement the boy rushes to the nearest table and pulls out a seat, blinking up at Dean and Castiel expectantly until they join him. There’s not quite enough room for both grown men’s legs under the table - their knees knock and their ankles brush - and the chair feels like it might give out at any second beneath Castiel’s adult frame, but the look of rapture on Jude’s face is enough to make all of the awkwardness melt away.

Castiel’s fingers shake with a hint of nerves as he selects the top book from the small pile - the one he picked for both Jude and Dean - opens to the first page, and begins to read.

“The night Max wore his wolfsuit and made mischief of one kind…”*

As Castiel reads, Dean signs. Jude drinks in the pictures with the same bright enthusiasm Castiel remembers possessing as a child, and for a moment Castiel forgets this isn’t his life, that he’s nothing more than a fly on the wall in Dean’s world. For a moment, it feels like this is his life too, like there’s a place for him in it all, tucked right inside his own little fairytale.

And maybe it’s strange, letting himself believe something like that, but being with Jude and Dean makes Castiel feel happy in a way he hasn’t felt in a while - like there’s some part of him that’s still nine years old and just cracking open a new book for the first time, or re-reading a beloved classic. It’s that same feeling of warm, and comfortable, like he belongs somewhere.

Castiel wants to cling to the feeling, and never let it go.

Over the weekend, Castiel takes home a few books  on ASL. It’s difficult to discern what the pictures are indicating so he pulls up a couple of YouTube videos as well and practices some small phrases and common words. His fingers don’t move like Dean’s do, easy and rhythmic, but it proves to be an enlightening experience all the same.

He also spends an hour or so researching children’s storytellers in the area and finds one that works with puppets and sign language specifically for children who are hard of hearing or deaf. He’ll still have to get Gabriel’s final approval, but Castiel emails the man anyway and asks for a few more details, printing out the information so he can run the idea by Gabriel on Monday.

As he drifts off to sleep Sunday night, it’s Dean’s face that meets him in his dreams.

Gabriel is already at the Book Attic when Castiel arrives on Monday morning. He pushes through the door with an argument already in place for convincing Gabriel to allow the storyteller at least a trial run .

Gabriel seems to sense the words Castiel’s been turning over and over in his head for two days now, and he slides a stack of books across the front counter without instruction. Castiel rids himself of his messenger bag and accepts the books.

“Alright, Flower, out with it,” Gabriel says. He peels the wrapper off a generic lollipop and shoves it in his mouth, smiling around it when Castiel pulls a disapproving face. It’s eight in the morning, for most that’s considered too early for chemically enhanced sugars - for Gabe it’s never too early.

Castiel clings to the books in his hands, pressing his fingertips against the blunt edges of the hardback covers. “I think we should bring in a storyteller.”

“Like for kids?”

Castiel nods, steeling himself for Gabriel’s impending reluctance. But Gabriel just shrugs.

“Who’d you have in mind?” he asks around his lollipop, his tongue already turning a bright red color.

With a feeling of relief, Castiel places the books back on the counter and bends to pull the flyer he’d printed out of his messenger bag. He hands it to Gabe with a flip in his belly and waits as Gabriel’s eyes scan the paper.

“First time’s free?” Gabriel questions, eyes flicking to meet Castiel’s.

Castiel nods again. “And he comes highly recommended.”

Gabriel studies the page a minute more before folding his arms across his chest and fixing Castiel with a knowing smirk. “We can book him under one condition,” he says.

Castiel’s expression goes stoney, knowing full well Gabriel has something mischievous up his sleeve.

“You admit this has something to do with Dean Winchester and that kid of his.”

Castiel opens his mouth to protest, denial clinging to the tip of his tongue, but when Gabriel lifts an eyebrow in warning, he sighs. “Fine,” Castiel grumbles. “It has something to do with Dean and his son.”

“And what would that something be, Little Angel?”

“That was not a part of the terms and conditions,” Castiel points out.

“It is now.”

Gabriel’s being obnoxious, they both know it, but Castiel does not want to pass this opportunity up just to keep his pride intact. So he appeases the man. “I care for them both, and I think it’s something Jude would enjoy. Now stop testing my patience, and tell me whether or not I can make the call.”

Gabriel’s eyes scan Castiel’s face for a beat before he nods, satisfied. “Fine,” he agrees. “We can book him.”

Castiel almost hugs Gabriel in thanks. Almost.

When he sees Dean again, Castiel has officially booked Garth Fitzgerald for a children’s story time session in three days’ time. Flyers have been made, and Castiel has happily handed one out to every parent that’s stepped through the Book Attic’s doors since Gabriel gave him the go-ahead.

Dean looks weary, as he often does, dressed in his Singer Automotive shirt, and Castiel notices almost immediately that Jude isn’t plastered to Dean’s side like usual.

“Where’s Jude?” he wonders when Dean’s standing before him at the register.

Dean’s smile is soft, if not a little sad, and Castiel’s brow knits together, worry curling in his chest.

“He’s with his mom today,” Dean explains, fingers tapping the counter idly.

“Oh.” Castiel should probably say something more, but he doesn’t.

Dean nods. “Yeah. Kinda sucks. Wish I could have him around more, but-” Dean scratches at his elbow, nervous. He doesn’t finish, shrugs instead, and Castiel can feel the unease rolling off of the other man in waves.

“I’m sure he wishes he could be with you more, too.” And the words are true. Castiel’s never seen Jude with his mother, but he’s seen him with Dean, and the boy looks at Dean like Dean hung the moon and every single star in the sky.

Dean’s lips twitch into a half smile. “Yeah,” he says, “I like to tell myself he does.”

“You’re very important to him, Dean. I may not know either of you very well, but it’s apparent that Jude loves you very much. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re an amazing father.”

At this Dean blushes ever so slightly. “Thanks Cas,” he mutters, eyes light and pleased. “That’s actually uh- that means a lot.”

They stand smiling at one another for a handful of seconds before Dean clears his throat and looks away.

Castiel shifts on his feet, and cocks his head to the side. “What brought you in today, then?” he questions.

“Uh-” Dean huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. I just miss the little dude, and this has kinda become our place, so. Felt right, I guess - force of habit, y’know?”

Castiel nods.

“And I kinda wondered if you’d be working so,” Dean shrugs, his eyes not quite meeting Castiel’s. “Thought I’d just drop in and see what was going on.”

Castiel can’t help the grin that breaks out across his face. “I’m glad you did. I actually have something to show you.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Castiel slides one of the storyteller flyers into Dean’s waiting hands, watching as the man’s eyes rove over the paper, a look of concentration forming on his face. “What’s this, Cas?” Dean asks.

“He’s a children’s storyteller who uses ASL and puppets with his stories. I thought Jude might like to experience a storytime that’s tailored to his needs.”

The expression on Dean’s face is unreadable when he blinks up at Cas, his mouth pulled down into a slight frown. “You’re doing this for Jude?”

Castiel wants to present Dean with an excuse, point out other children will benefit from it as well, but the fact of the matter is, yes. Castiel is doing it for Jude. “He’s a wonderful boy, Dean,” is all Castiel says.

“You do a lot of really nice shit for us, you know that, Cas? I kinda feel like I gotta do something to even all of this out.” Dean’s smiling, and the sight makes Castiel’s heart beat a happy tattoo against his chest. Dean has such a nice smile.

“You and your son deserve nice shit, Dean,” Castiel says, quipping a smile.

Dean lets out a chuckle. “Don’t ever change, Cas, okay? You’re a really great guy.”

Castiel feels like someone stole the sun out of the sky and harbored it inside of him, intense warmth threatening to crack him right open and spill out onto the floor. It might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to him and coming from Dean it means that much more.

“Thank you,” he says, and maybe his cheeks glow a little, too.

Garth Fitzgerald is a huge success. The kids love him, faces bright and eyes wide as they watch, and Gabe invites him back almost immediately when they have their biggest revenue day of the month due to Garth’s presence.

The best part about it all though is watching Jude and Dean.

Dean seems almost nervous to have Jude there with all the other kids - the two of them usually keep to themselves. But, Jude is immediately drawn in by Garth, a man who literally speaks the boy’s language, and he laughs and participates right along with all the other children.

When Dean offers Castiel a warm smile, reaching him over the tops of little heads, Castiel falls just a little bit more.

At the end of the hour, Jude finds Castiel. The boy wears a broad grin, and Castiel settles into a crouch to greet him, surprised when Jude launches himself at Castiel and wraps tiny arms around his neck.

Castiel glances up at Dean and receives a reassuring nod in response. Castiel’s arms settle around the boy’s waist, and he stands, holding him close. Jude levels him with a delighted stare.

Thank you, he signs, grin toothy and eyes sparkling. Thank you.

Castiel fumbles out a You’re welcome, difficult with the boy in his arms, and Jude leans in to hug him again.

“You have no idea how awesome this was, Cas,” Dean tells him, but Castiel thinks he might just know how awesome it was.

A couple of days later, Castiel’s closing up shop when the bell above the door jingles. He looks up from where he’s counting down the till to find Jude and Dean crossing the threshold.

Castiel smiles, the I’m sorry we’re closed dying on his tongue.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says. His smile is crooked, nervous almost, and he approaches the front counter on unsteady feet. Jude on the other hand is standing across from Castiel in an instant, eyes wide and nose pink from the bite of cold outside.

Dean joins them at the register, lifting Jude into the air and settling the child onto the counter, gaze meeting Cas’ then sliding away and to Jude’s little hands.

“Is everything alright?” Castiel wonders, because Jude seems like his normal enthusiastic self, but there’s something about Dean that seems… unsure.

Dean sucks in a breath, smiles. “Yeah, no, everything’s fine, just- uh- we brought you something.”

“Oh.”

Castiel looks down as Jude extends an arm across the counter and holds out what looks to be a stack of papers. Castiel blinks, and Dean clears his throat.

“It’s a book,” Dean supplies. “Jude wrote it.”

Castiel stares at the child. “You wrote me a book?” he asks.

Jude smiles up at his father, and Dean rolls his eyes. “Okay, we. We wrote you a book. It was the kid’s idea though. He’s the brains of the operation.”

Castiel accepts the book gingerly, looking down at the cover with a lump in his throat and a pleasant tingle spreading through his limbs. “I don’t know what to say.”

Jude signs something and Castiel looks to Dean for guidance. “He wants you to read it, Cas.”

“Yes,” Castiel says, “okay.” He opens the book to the first page where an eagerly drawn stick figure is smiling up at him.

“That’s you and those are all your books,” Dean explains, pointing to the picture. He goes through the book with Castiel, deciphering what Jude’s pictures mean, and pointing out some of the things Jude was excited to draw; dragon books, and Where The Wild Things Are, and a man with puppets on his hands.

On the last page, there are three stick figures all standing in a row. Their eyes are big, their hair everywhere, and Castiel lets out a huff of laughter at Jude’s tender drawing. We are happy. The words are etched in Jude’s barely legible handwriting - something Dean surely helped him write - and Castiel blinks at them for a moment before looking up at Jude and Dean.

“He means you make us happy,” Dean offers. He signs long, voice gruff and quiet, and Castiel bites at his bottom lip, happy tears building in his chest.

Until Dean and Jude came along, Castiel had never met anyone who could make him feel as happy as the two of them make him feel. Happiness comes  from books, that’s how it’s always been.

But now he knows differently, understands the comfort of a good story versus the joy of having someone. He never thought there’d be a time he knew both.

You make me happy, too, Castiel signs, shooting Dean a questioning glance, searching for confirmation that he has all the words right. Dean nods and then for the second time in a week Castiel is wrapped up in Jude’s tiny embrace, the boy’s face tucked  against Castiel’s neck, lashes tickling his skin, and Dean laughs.

“Hey, Huggy Bear, let the guy breathe.” He tugs on Jude’s jacket, but the boy doesn’t let go and Castiel assures Dean he doesn’t mind. Castiel smoothes a hand down the boy’s back feeling full of content and belonging.

“So, uh-” Dean rubs a hand over the back of his neck, one of his nervous tics Castiel’s come to find endearing. “You about done here? ‘Cause Jude and I are starving and thought maybe you’d wanna grab dinner or something.”

A smile climbs to Castiel’s face. “I’d like that very much.”

“Awesome.”

For a moment there’s only silence, smiles accompanied with warm glances; it’s just like Castiel’s read about in books, when the two main characters fall in love and something big is about to happen.

“Dean,” Castiel says, voice quiet.

“Hmmm.”

“I believe this is the part in the story where we kiss.”

Dean’s smile is downright gleeful as he moves closer, tugs Castiel in by his scarf, drawing their faces close. There’s a counter between them and Jude’s still in Castiel’s arms, but when Dean kisses him for the first time, light, and sweet, and perfect, Castiel experiences his very own happily ever after.

 

*This is a line from _Where the Wild Things Are_ by Maurice Sendak. 


End file.
